Chapter 33
33
A mara
I wake up with a better disposition. After a day and a half of living in a cloud of painkillers, I finally have more energy. I touch the side of my stomach. It's still tender but doesn't hurt as much as before.
The drugs have helped. I got plenty of sleep at night. And Massimo's presence has given me strength.
I don't know if he's been with me out of guilt for our argument before I was kidnapped or because he cares for me. Or maybe he wants to ensure I don't take off again. But I've enjoyed his presence immensely.
We still have to talk—a lot.
Colleen comes into my room. She's not carrying a breakfast tray, which is good. Today, I'm going downstairs for breakfast. I need to get out of this bed and face life again, but I’ll start with lunch.
I grab my phone and use the camera app to check my face.
The area isn't as swollen as before, but the blue tones around my eyes are still there. Fuck. I was hoping to visit Andie at the hospital.
"Good morning," Colleen says, concern crossing her expression. "How did you sleep?"
"Well. I feel much better. I can't be in bed anymore, even if I look like I was hit by a bus." I move to a sitting position. "Have you heard about Andie? I've been meaning to ask, but I’ve been in a haze because of the drugs. I haven't been?—"
"Yes. I have some bad news," Collen cuts me off, sitting on the edge of the bed.
"The baby didn't make it?" I touch my chest, my heartbeat rising.
Colleen glances at her lap before her eyes meet mine. "The baby is well. I'm sorry to say that Andie didn't make it."
I clap my hand to my mouth. Sadness overwhelms me, and I quiver. Oh, Andie. Tears press against my eyelids. "Really?"
She nods. "I'm sorry for your loss."
"W-what happened?"
"Her blood pressure was too high, and even when they made it to the hospital, it didn't come down in time. She had eclampsia. The doctors acted quickly and were able to deliver the baby via a C-section."
I touch my chest, pressing my hand to my heart, trying to calm myself. Andie's face flashes through my mind, her expression as she asked me to make sure her baby was okay.
"I need to go to the hospital and see the baby," I say, shoving the sheets out of the way.
"You will. Massimo had to leave for an important meeting, but he'll take you."
I dash into the closet, looking for random clothing I can throw on. Restlessness takes over me, the harsh truth swirling in my head. Andie. Is. Dead. I may not have known her for long, but the idea of that poor baby losing her mom… "I need to go now."
Colleen stands in front of me, hands lifted, silently telling me to calm the fuck down with a raise of her eyebrow. "You can't go alone. If you try, the guards will stop you."
I shove the clothes on the floor. I may be rattled by the news, but I'm not idiot enough to think I'd be able to leave unannounced. I don't want to. I learned my lesson. "Fuck."
"Besides, your mom wants to see you. She's downstairs and has been waiting for you to wake up."
My mom is the last person I want to see. She's not exactly a source of comfort, especially after a loss. I might not have known Andie for a long time, but she became a good friend. The knowledge that her baby will go through life without a mom breaks my heart.
"I don't want to see her."
Colleen rolls her eyes, signaling she's as annoyed by my mom's visit as I am. "She's pestered Massimo since yesterday. News travels fast. He told her if she says one thing to upset you, she'll never see you again."
"Oh."
"I'll be in the hallway. If you call me, I'll get her out."
"I guess… let her in, then." My emotions are numb after losing Andie. Dealing with my mom's passive aggressiveness will be a breeze.
Colleen nods and leaves, and a minute later, my mom walks into my bedroom. She clutches the strap of her shoulder bag and isn't wearing as much makeup as usual. She walks toward me with slow steps, differently than the sure, long strides my mom is known for.
Massimo must have scared the living shit out of her.
"Hey, Mom."
She pulls a chair close to my bed and sits. "How are you feeling?"
"Pretty crappy. My friend died."
She reaches for my hand and squeezes it. "I'm sorry for your loss, honey. I just heard."
"Yeah." I look around. Telling my mom about my fun time in the basement isn't what I want to do. And talking to her about Andie seems strange. "I'll be okay," I say to change the subject and dispel some of the tension engulfing us.
"You can tell me about your friend if you want."
I appreciate her offer, but we've never had a relationship involving sharing, laughs, or tears. I'm unsure if I want to start one now I’ve finally learned to stand up to her. "It's sad that Andie died. She would’ve been a good mother."
"You'll be a good mother one day too."
I hope so. I give her a close-lipped smile.
"I wasn't the best mother," she says, shuffling in her seat. "Your brother was in his teens when I got pregnant with you. Because he was a boy, your dad took over many decisions regarding Alonzo. With you, I was reminded of how my mom raised me. She raised me to be someone's wife. Someone important, if I was lucky."
I never met my grandmother; from her stern, aloof expressions in the old pictures, I believe what my mom says. I process her words. Sure, I bet it was different for her to parent a daughter when she already had a son who was way more independent. A son who had fulfilled their need for an heir. But that doesn’t justify her crappy treatment of me. All the unnecessary criticism, cold stares, and lack of affection. "Why are you telling me all this?"
"Because a young woman died, and it could have been you. I've wanted to see you and make sure you were okay for a couple of days, and your husband wouldn't let me."
"Mom… I can't give you what you need right now. I can't reassure you. That would be a lie. You've been a crappy mother, more worried about optics than how I felt. I dealt with your fat shaming my entire life, but when Ugo beat me up, and you sided with him, that broke a part of me that took a while to heal," I say, a mix of emotions swirling inside me. I'm glad I can set that boundary, but sad that it needs to be done.
"I know. I wish I had an excuse."
I cross my arms over my chest. "If you're here to feel less guilty or make sure I'm alive, well, yes, I'm alive. You can go back."
"Amara… even though I'm your mom, you turned into this caring, smart woman." Tears brim her eyes. "I'll watch you grow, even from a distance. I know I can't ask you for forgiveness. But know that if I had the opportunity to do it all over again, I would act differently."
I thread my fingers together, fidgeting. To hear her say she'd act differently if she had to do it all over again means she's learned something and gives me a small measure of joy. But I can't fool myself. My mom is still talking about this, and I don't have the mind space for more games. "Thank you for your words. I don't wish you anything bad. I just… don't have the energy to put effort into our relationship now."
She surges to her feet promptly, like we’ve ended a business meeting, and smooths her hand over her blouse. "That's fair. Like I said, you’re smart."
I smile. My mom isn’t used to not getting her way, but I suppose it could be worse.
She takes a couple of steps toward the door, then turns and looks at me. "Before I go, I wanted to let you know that your husband talked to Alonzo. All will be resolved."
I tilt my head to the side, trying to understand what I just heard. "How so?"
"Alonzo will come back and work for Massimo, even though he's not happy about it. But he won't come back in the same capacity as before. Once things settle down, Massimo can promote him—but Massimo will continue being the don, so that will be the consensus."
"So he preserves his street cred, and Alonzo gets to live,” I say, my voice sounding lighter with each word that escapes my lips.
My mom nods, a soft expression taking over her face. "Yes. It turns out that whoever told Massimo has a big mouth. Your husband is worried about optics, too. I guess he and I have something in common."
"He's generous," I say.
My heart sings, break dances, and waltzes all at once.
Massimo loves me. Even if he hasn't said it, his behavior does. He's been by my side, caring for me, and has welcomed Alonzo back even when he didn't have to. I know that working with Alonzo is far from ideal and could be a liability for him. But he did it anyway.
I love him, too. And we have to make it right.